


Render unto Caesar

by wobblyheadeddollcaper



Category: Magic Mike XXL (2015)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:24:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wobblyheadeddollcaper/pseuds/wobblyheadeddollcaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rome takes Mike down a couple of pegs for old times' sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Render unto Caesar

**Author's Note:**

> Clearing out the unposted works folder. Enjoy!

“Oh, Magic,” she sighs, shaking her head. “What am I supposed to do with you?” If he’d been good, she would have called him Mike, and they both know it. His lower lip juts out a little.

“Whatever you want?” he says, hunching his shoulders and somehow managing to look up at her even though he’s a foot and change taller than her.

“I have other demands on my time,” she says, not unkindly. “You going to make it worth my while?”

He drops to his knees, one smooth fluid motion, and leans forward unsupported, his hands clasped behind his back, until his lips brush the toe of her shoe. She twitches it and he leans back again, sinuous, putting a little writhe into it.

“I’ll make it good,” he says, and he knows he sounds too defensive, too uncertain. “I’ll be good.”

“Yes?” she prompts, her voice dropping a little, turning from honey to molasses. “You going to be my good boy?”

“Yes, Miss Rome.” He doesn’t look directly at her, just steals a glance as he sinks back onto his heels. She’s standing with her arms folded, looking down at him, assessing him. There’s a smile lurking deep in her brown eyes, and he wants nothing more than to see it surface on her face.

“Strip. Take it slow. Stay on the floor.” She walks to the nearest chair and turns it to face him before she sits, crossing her legs at the knee and resting her slim hands on her thighs. Her suit – red silk tonight – whispers as she moves.

He lifts his shirt, letting his eyes rest on her hands, those long, clever fingers, that perfect skin. He can dance, but he’ll never have that ability to be so calmly, perfectly still.

He pulls his shirt up over his head and goes up onto his knees, arching backwards to reach and remove his shoes behind his back. The position shows off his abs, he knows, and right now he needs some small advantage.

“You don’t need to show off for me, boy. I know what you’re good for,” Rome says warmly. “Take them off, go on.”

He sits on his ass and folds his legs in front of him, pulling off his other shoe and setting it down beside the first. Then he lies on his back, sets his shoulders to the floor, lifts his hips, and starts to peel down his jeans. He kicks them off, so that he’s lying flat on his back in his underwear, still looking at Rome’s hands.

“Look at me,” she says, a hint of iron in her voice. His eyes flick up to her face. He feels like he’s starving, he wants her to touch him so badly. She looks – not unmoved. Her lips are parted, her eyes have gone catlike and heavy on him, raking over his body.

“Now - now you can show off,” she says indulgently, only the faint hitch in her voice letting him know that he’s doing it for her.

He runs his fingers under the waistband of his underwear, trailing his thumbs over his hipbones where they point down towards his crotch. He’s half-hard just from being watched. He hooks one thumb into the waist and drags it down as his other hand slides up over his body and he pushes his hips, slow and controlled. He’s used to making promises with his body.

Then he rolls over quickly, up on to all fours and crawling towards her. He crawls until his face is inches from her ankle, and breathes onto the sensitive skin stretched over the bone. Her legs are bare. She shivers. He can smell her, God, that sweet-salt smell that conjures up memories so vivid his cock twitches.

He kneels and pulls his underwear down, slowly, to his knees, and then he stops, his cock curving up to kiss wetly against his stomach. She waits a moment.

“Someone taught you how to follow instructions. You remember who?”

“You did, Miss Rome.” He clears his throat. His voice sounds hoarse and strange in his own ears.

“And you want another lesson?”

“Yes. Miss Rome.” He’s begging now, and she hasn’t even touched him.

“You want to serve me?” She draws out the ‘r’, almost purring.

“Oh God, yes,” he gasps. “Miss Rome. Please.”

“Stay.” She leaves him kneeling, his muscles straining to keep his hands behind his back and his head down as she walks behind him and takes her own clothes off. He hears them rustle as they thump to the ground and feels dizzy. When she sits back in the chair she is gloriously naked except for her stilettoes, and she opens her legs like the gates of heaven itself.

“Give me pleasure,” she orders. “Use your tongue, lips, and your right hand. Don’t touch yourself yet.”


End file.
